


are you a respiratory obstruction? because you take my breath away.

by echoesofstardust



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, academic rivals to study buddies to oh-shit-i’m-in-love-with-you, and anatomy puns, and pining and fluff and romcom tropes bc it's me, copious business partners references, in which i shove T and S into an approximation of my uni major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoesofstardust/pseuds/echoesofstardust
Summary: “Virtue.” He’s got his hands in his pockets, a smirk teasing at his mouth.“Moir.” She’s got her arms crossed, chin tilted up, a glint in her eyes.(or, Tessa and Scott as rival pre-med students.)
Relationships: Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue
Comments: 70
Kudos: 220





	are you a respiratory obstruction? because you take my breath away.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Walkinrobe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinrobe/gifts).



> Dearest Robe,
> 
> This fic is my homage to your wonderful Doctors AU (which I love and adore so much). As I was planning out what I’d write for you as a thank you gift, I remember jotting down ideas for a fic in which T&S were pre-med rivals that I had seriously considered writing during my exam season because that counts as revision right?? Anyway, this turned out as the result. Hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you for being an inspiration, for your kindness, for your spectacular writing and just all-around awesomeness. Much love! <3
> 
> To everyone kind enough to read my fics,
> 
> Firstly, I apologise for the number of liberties taken and the appalling lack of research that went into this fic (I've only been in uni and in my major for a year) and I'm so sorry for any and all mistakes. Feel free to yell at me. And yet, I hope you’ll enjoy and that it can make you smile. You all mean more to me than what words can say! <3
> 
> (And finally, a massive shoutout to my lecture slides for all the info I should've learnt this year but have now forgotten. The real MVP.)

“Virtue.” He’s got his hands in his pockets, a smirk teasing at his mouth.

“Moir.” She’s got her arms crossed, chin tilted up, a glint in her eyes.

If anyone stumbled on this scene unfolding from the outside, they’d think they’d walked into a parody of an old Western film. The only things missing are the cheesy music, dramatic close-up shots and the lone tumbleweed spinning in the background.

Sadly, Tessa knows this isn’t a Hollywood film. It’s just Scott Moir with his cocky grin and I’m-so-much-better-than-you attitude. She’s going to beat him this semester and she’s going to take the higher road and _not_ lord it over him when she does, unlike him.

(Maybe _just_ once, though. She’ll never admit it, but Scott Moir is fucking intelligent _and_ she knows he also works fucking hard so beating him is no small feat. It’s good payback anyway.)

Her best friend Tanith grabs her arm and leads her into the lecture hall, throwing a quick “Hey Scott!” over her shoulder. “Is this semester going to be as entertaining as the last one?” she tells Tessa as soon as they’ve snagged their preferred seats. Well, Tessa’s preferred seat close to the front. Tanith suffers through it.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Scott, of course,” Tanith rolls her eyes. “The way you fight over who gets the answers to the prof’s questions first? The banter? The way he smiles at you?” Tanith pretends to swoon. “I brought popcorn this time. You better not disappoint me, Virtue.”

“The way he smiles at—what?”

“At you, dummy. When you’re not looking.” Tanith sticks her hand in her bag and pulls out a small pack of popcorn. “I’m ready as you can see.”

“He does _not_ smile at me. He smirks. A smile would have to have good intentions.” She huffs as she pulls out her fresh notebook, pen and pastel highlighters.

“Whatever you say, Tess.” Tanith settles back in her seat, pulling her laptop out, popcorn in her lap. Tessa doesn’t think they’re allowed to eat in the lecture hall but it hasn’t stopped Tanith before.

–

She’d been looking forward to this anatomy unit over the break. She’d loved the first anatomy unit she’d taken as part of her major last semester, found that the professor’s way of explaining was clear but still detailed and that she was clearly passionate about the subject. 

She had assumed that the same professor was going to take this next unit but she’s since learned that there’s been a change in teaching staff.

This was not good. This is the fifth time in twenty minutes that the professor had made a tangent to yet another unrelated anecdote about his life. They’re meant to be covering the musculoskeletal system—not the time he’d been ticketed for speeding. There was meant to be an analogy there, but she’d honestly lost track of it.

She sneaks glances around the lecture hall and no one seems to be paying attention. She looks beside her and yep, Tanith’s asleep.

She sneaks a glance at Scott, already expecting him to perfectly in tune with the wavelength of the professor and furiously scribbling notes but he’s got his head in his hands. (No, Tessa, don’t think about how that makes his hair perfectly messy, no—shut up.) He’s staring at his page and at the prof and back again.

He turns to meet her eyes like he’s realised she’s staring at him. It startles her but she doesn’t avoid his gaze. She hasn’t done anything wrong; she’s just a little concerned, is all.

“Are you okay?” she mouths.

He shakes his head. “You?” he mouths back.

She purses her lips and grips her pen. She shakes her head as well. This is gonna be a long semester.

–

She’s willing to give the professor the benefit of the doubt. It’s a good challenge and she knows she can’t expect to be spoonfed all the information. She just has to adjust to his teaching style, that’s all. She just has to do the work.

Fast forward two weeks later and she’s not handling it well at all. She’s stumbling out of the library late at night after trying to teach herself about a week’s worth of content before the lab tomorrow and she bumps into a solid someone.

“Sorry!” she gasps. Thank god she hasn’t dropped anything. If her notes fell out of order, she’d actually just sit on the floor and cry.

“Tessa?”

“Scott?” Dammit, why does it have to be him that she bumped into? She knows she looks an outright mess after too many hours bent over her textbooks and notes and practice questions and flashcards.

“Are you—okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” she practically shouts. Scott steps back, obviously taken aback, but something about the darkness and the look of concern in his eyes makes her honestly admit in a whisper, “Actually, no, no, I’m not.” She hugs the pile of books and papers she’s holding in front of her, like it can act as a protective shield given the chink in her armour she’s just admitted. 

“You want to talk about it?” he says it so gently, so differently from the Scott she knows in daylight, that she wonders if she’s talking to a different person.

She sighs deeply, tucking her chin in her chest, and says one word. “Anatomy.”

“Oh, fuck. Me too,” he blurts out. He runs a hand through his hair agitatedly. “I know the unit’s meant to be a step up from last sem? But—” He cuts himself off mid-sentence. 

“—I hadn’t realised how much of a step up it was gonna be.” She finishes for him. “Well, that and—” She bites her lip, not finishing her thought. It’s probably rude to complain about a professor.

“—we...don’t have the best prof.” He finishes her thought anyway. “I think he spent half of the last lecture talking about his family history of thanksgiving dinners. There was a link there I’m sure but,” Scott holds his hands out in a shrugging gesture, “I missed it completely.”

“I skipped the last lecture,” she confesses, hugging her books tighter.

“Tessa!” Scott says her name mock-admonishingly. “I was, uh, wondering why you weren’t there.” He coughs, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

“We were given the unit outline and the corresponding textbook chapters. I honestly thought it was more useful to look at the learning outcomes and take the notes from the textbook. I just—” she sighs, “—I know I learn better when I hear concepts verbally as well as seeing them visually. And without the lectures...it’s a lot tougher.”

“You could form a study group?”

“I’ve tried that. Tanith and I end up getting nothing done.” Since that one time they nearly got kicked out of the library she’s learned she’s better off studying on her own. “But thank you for the suggestion.”

She glances up at him. “Well, I’m gonna head off. Good luck with—” she waves a hand vaguely in his direction, “— whatever you’re doing.”

“Probably what you just did. Gonna be cramming,” he chuckles without humour.

Tessa peeks at her watch. “It’s getting late though.”

“Yeah,” Scott yawns proving her point, “but this is the best time for me to get some study done after hockey practice. See you around, Tessa.” He raises his hand in some sort of wave.

“See you, Scott.” She doesn’t watch him walk away. 

( _Maybe_ she sneaks a glance, but her life isn’t a rom-com, okay? She’s got a GPA to maintain.)

–

It turns out she and Scott were part of the same lab for the semester so she knew she’d be seeing him today. She rehearses her arguments again in a straight list down, taking her time putting her lab coat and stuff in her bag.

She catches him as they’re both heading out of the anatomy building. “Scott!” She calls his name. His head whips around to look for who’s calling his name and looks surprised that it’s her. She doesn’t blame him. She can barely count the number of times she’s actually started a conversation with him that didn’t involve yelling.

She notices that they’re getting a few curious looks from the other people around them who are all-too-familiar with their infamous Virtue-Moir rivalry, but she chooses to ignore them.

“Hi.” She tucks her hair behind her ear for lack of anything else to do.

“Hi, Tessa.” Scott looks absolutely puzzled but he’s smiling at her. _Oh_. That’s what it looks like when it’s a genuine smile and not a smirk. “Are you, um…” he looks around them and Tessa notices that the people from their lab are still staring at them. Scott nods his head in a direction and she follows where he starts walking.

“So...what can I do for you?” he breaks the silence once they’re far enough away. He says each word slowly, clearly still confused why she wants to talk to him.

“I...have a favour to ask.” She stops and turns to face him.

“A favour?”

“Yes, um, I was thinking about what you said the other night when I bumped into you outside the library. About how it’d be helpful to have a study group? And, uh,” she rushes through the rest of the sentence like a bandaid being ripped off, “I was wondering if you would want to form one with me.”

“A study group? With you?” he looks dubious.

She stands up straighter. An argument between them is a familiar dance and she’s rehearsed all her steps for this one. She clears her throat. “Well, firstly, as you pointed out that night, the teaching style of our professor is...not of the best standard and it’s in our best interests to find avenues that will still help us learn the content. Secondly, if you agree, I’ll obviously work hard alongside you and will provide study materials for the both of us. Thirdly, it’ll only be for one unit for this semester, so you only have to put up with me for that long.” She laughs at her attempt at humour but he doesn’t. Okay then. Tough crowd. “Fourth, I know we’re not _really_ friends so any study sessions will be purely for studying without distractions. Like a business meeting.”

“We’re gonna be...like business partners?”

“Yep!” She smiles quickly at him. “And finally, I just—I really am struggling with the content for this subject,” she ducks her head down as she admits it, taking a shaky breath, “and I know you—care about your grades. And that you work hard. We won’t let each other down.”

She doesn’t look up once she’s finished her speech. The ball’s in his court now. She wonders what’s going through his mind. Maybe he thinks she’s playing some sort of game with him? She’s about to reiterate the benefits of this business proposal, for lack of a better term, when he nods slowly.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Really?” Even if she’s been hoping for this outcome, him agreeing still takes her by surprise.

“Yes, Tessa. Okay, as in affirmative, as in ‘I agree’.” He’s teasing her but she’s not even going to take the bait to argue with him.

“Thank you! Thank you so much.” She clears her throat, trying to regain her composure. “I won’t let you down.”

“So, what are the terms and conditions of this business partnership?”

She rolls her eyes and hides her smile. She probably should’ve picked a better analogy. “I was thinking of meeting up weekly? Once midterms come closer then we can meet up more often if we need. Same goes for finals.”

“That sounds reasonable.” He pauses before asking, “Was there anyone else you were going to include or is it just gonna be the two of us?”

“Honestly, no. Was there anyone you wanted to ask?”

“Nah, I’m cool with just us two. Besides, I don’t want anyone else to learn about my secrets.”

She grins wickedly.“ So _I’m_ going to be learning all your secrets? And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, I’ll be learning yours.”

She hadn’t thought of it like that, but it’s probably too late to back out now. She holds her hand out. “We’re agreed then?”

He takes her hand in a firm grip and shakes. “Yeah. We are.”

–

 **Scott:** _tessa_ _it’s going tibia great day_

(She rolls her eyes at the text she gets from Scott. It’s not the first time.)

**Tessa:** _you know when I gave you my number it wasn’t to text me random anatomy puns right_

**Scott:** _admit it you laughed_

(Maybe she did. Maybe she got dirty looks thrown at her by her fellow students currently in the library, but she won’t admit that.)

**Tessa:** _you’re not as funny as you think you are Moir_

**Scott:** _awww tessa_

_i’m sure you find me humerus_

(She’ll admit she snorted at that. It earned her the most annoyed look from the person at the table beside hers. She probably deserved it.)

**Scott:** _on a more serious not_ _when is our first business meeting?_

She rolls her eyes. It looks like he’s not letting go of her business partners analogy.

**Tessa:** _when are you free?_

**Scott:** _let me show you my calendar? you can tell me when it’s best for you_

(It surprises her that Scott has a calendar. The screenshot of his Google calendar pings through on her phone and while it’s not as detailed as her colour-coded one, it’s still more than what she’d expect from a guy.

It’s not attractive, definitely not.)

**Tessa:** _this coming tuesday? around 7 pm to 8?_

**Scott:** _sure_

_see you then, Tess_

(It’s only a letter that he’s dropped from her name, and it’s a nickname that practically everyone gives her, but it makes her smile nonetheless.)

–

She’d waits for Scott at one of her favourite study places in the library and she feels weirdly—nervous? Like she’s about to audition for a role in a play or she’s about to go in for a job interview. She feels like she’s got something to prove.

“Hey, Tess.” She jumps at his voice. “Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He flashes her a quick grin.

“It’s okay, I was just...lost in thought.” She straightens up in her seat, adjusting her notes so that all the edges line up. “Oh! I made these for you.” She pulls out a small stack of flashcards bound by a rubber band based on the materials they’d covered so far. “Point number 2 of our deal was that I’d provide study materials for the both of us.”

“Tess,” he sits down beside her with wide, open eyes and a wide, open smile, “you didn’t have to.”

“A deal’s a deal,” she protests.

“Still, this is a lot,” he says as he fans them across. They’re concise and colour-coded. She’s pretty damn proud of her system. “You should keep them.”

She pulls out her own matching set. “I’ve already got my own,” she waves it at him.

His eyes widen even more. “Tess, you _really_ didn’t have to make mine.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” A beat. “Because, you know. Our deal.”

“Well, thank you.” She looks up just in time to catch his smile and she’s still not used to getting them instead of his smirks.

(She thinks she’d like to get used to it.)

She pulls out the most recent notes on the last lecture and grabs a pen, “So the axial skeleton…”

Studying with Scott is more helpful than even what she hoped for. He’s got all these bizarre (sometimes inappropriate) mnemonics but she’ll take what she can get to learn the content. At least she can remember which facial bones have sinuses and which ones don’t.

“Also, I’m a bit lost with the features of the different vertebrae...there’s three different types right?” She glances down at her notes, and all the arrows she’s drawn all over the place. “Sorry, I got lost in the lecture.”

“I can’t blame you.” Scott pulls out his own set of notes and she’s immediately envious of how neat and tidy it all looks. “That was tough.”

“There’s cervical, thoracic and lumbar, right?” She looks up at Scott and he’s nodding patiently. “But then I get confused about how the Z-facet joints are oriented for each one and _why_...” she bites her bottom lip as she trails off, tapping her pen against the table.

It’s hard to admit her weaknesses, especially in front of Scott. There’s still a part of her that thinks he’s an enemy about to pounce on every apparent weakness, but as he takes the time to explain the concepts to her with not even a hint of condescension in his voice, she’s wondering if she’s misjudged him this entire time.

She remembers him bragging about the first test he’d gotten a perfect score in. Well—she remembers it as bragging, but now she wonders whether it was her own disappointment in her own imperfect one that had twisted the way she’d interpreted the conversation. Her stomach drops and she feels cold all over.

“...does that make sense?” He looks at her openly, a little frown between his eyebrows, but it’s more like he’s got his focus completely on her instead of seeming like he’s annoyed.

“Sorry,” she blinks and shakes her head, “could you...explain that to me again?” She winces at having to ask him again.

“That’s fine,” he gives her a quick grin and it surprises her how easily he gives his smiles when she’s watching out for them. As he launches into the explanation again, not even a hint of frustration marring his voice, she’s sure she must’ve judged Scott Moir too quickly.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do with that revelation.

As they’re packing up, she can’t resist blurting out, “How are your notes so neat?” She blushes as he’s startled by her sudden outburst.

“Are they?” He flicks through them. “Thanks, but I don’t know what I’m writing half the time. Everything’s just in dot points so it’s like an illusion that it’s neat.”

He gives her one of the pages of his notes and upon closer inspection she can see that one of the dot points is just ‘AHHHHHHH’ in all caps, and another is ‘WTF why is he talking about spaghetti?’ All in his clear print. How he doesn’t need to scribble is pure sorcery.

She bites her lip to keep from laughing. “I see.”

“Yeah, it’s all an illusion.” He shuffles all his notes together again, slides them into a folder and then into his bag.

He gives her a mock-salute as he’s leaving, grinning even though they’re both exhausted. “See you later, partner,” he says, pronouncing it more like ‘pardner’ like he’s a cowboy in a Western film.

She shakes her head, fighting back a smile. “See you, Scott.”

–

“You and Scott _Moir_ have a study group? Why is the first time I’ve heard about this not from you?”

Tessa looks up from her sandwich to find Tanith with her hands on her hips glaring at her. “I’m sorry?”

Tanith sits down on the seat next to her, turning so that her whole body’s facing Tessa. “You. Scott. Study buddies.”

Tessa nearly chokes on the bite of her sandwich. “Uh, Tanith, the way you say ‘study buddies’ makes it seem that you think we’re doing anything other than studying.”

“Exactly what I think. When were you going to spill all the details? I’m your best friend, Tessa Virtue.”

Tessa dabs at her lips with the napkin. “You’re right. I should’ve mentioned it to you. But there’s no details to spill. We just—study.”

“Really?” Tanith rests her chin on her hand, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not an excuse to, I don’t know, resolve the sexual tension that’s been building since day one?”

“Tanith!” she squeaks, eyes darting around her at all the other students eating their lunches. “No! No no no no _no._ Definitely not. We just...go over everything that we cover in Anatomy.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, swallowing. “He’s really helpful, okay? He’s really kind and patient when going over stuff. In all honesty, I think I...misjudged him last sem.”

She looks up to see Tanith looking at her with kind eyes. “Well, it sounds like you two kids have worked things out.” She leans over to steal a strawberry from Tessa’s open container. “So you’re sure that you’re definitely not studying each other’s anatomy?” she teases.

“Tanith,” Tessa groans, dropping her forehead on the table.

–

She finds Scott at what’s become their regular study spot from the past few weeks. 

He looks like he’s been there for a while, papers spread out in front of him, splotches of colour on the pages, which makes her smile because she’s zealously argued the benefits of colour coding on memory and it looks like he’s finally listened. She glances at the notes and sees it’s to do with metabolic pathways—he must be revising for their other unit.

“How’s it going?” she asks over his shoulder and he jumps, hand over his heart.

“Shit, T,” he breathes heavily, “why did you have to do that?”

She laughs, although she probably shouldn’t at his expense. “No reason,” she drops down in the seat across from him, dumping her bag in the chair next to her, “other than payback for the time you did the same to me last week.”

“I told you that wasn’t intentional.”

She tilts her head as he tries to excuse his definitely-intentional jump scare last week. He’d gotten the worse end of the deal because she had ended up hitting him with her very-heavy textbook reflexively. She watches him subconsciously rub his shoulder now—she assumes in memory of the pain she’d (mostly) accidentally inflicted.

He raises an eyebrow but smiles in a way that it seems like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, looking back down at his notes. A frown starts to form as he looks at the page in front of him, about to close his notebook, probably to prepare for their anatomy study session.

He looks up at her, “I know we only agreed to study anatomy together...but can I ask you a question about our other unit?”

Once upon a time, a few weeks ago, the answer might have been a ‘no’, if she’s being honest. She inwardly winces at how quickly she would have been selfish, automatically labelling him as enemy number one.

Now, though, all she does is pull her chair closer, leaning over where he’s pointing with his pen, an easy, “Sure, what can I help you with?” falling from her lips.

“Fructose-2,6-bisphosphate? Where does it fit in with gluconeogenesis regulation?”

“Well, my understanding is it’s an allosteric regulator, right…” She pulls out her own pencil to mark out the molecules on his notes that relate to his question, trying to paint the bigger picture as she’s explaining. It’s too easy to get confused between all these names that sound almost the same.

“So what’s the difference between fructose-1,6-bisphosphate and fructose-2,6-bisphosphate? Fuck, fructose-1,6-bisphosphatase is also a thing, right? What does that do?”

“Scott, breathe.” She nudges his foot under that table with hers. “I think you know the info—you just need to trust that you know it and not overthink it. Tell me what you think the answer to your question is. I bet you know.”

He does.

He sighs in relief once she confirms he’s correct, both against her own knowledge and his notes. 

“Thanks, T.” He slouches back against his chair, his fingers making his hair a dishevelled mess. He closes his eyes and opens them, smiling softly at her. “You know, when you asked me if I wanted to form a study group with you I was almost going to say no.”

She feels cold all of a sudden, even with the warm sunlight falling across the table that’s made it one of her favourite study spots.

“Oh.” She’s sure she can’t hide the way her face falls. Well, she can’t blame him really. It’s not like she was ever really _nice_ to him, and it’s not like they were even really _friends—_

“Oh, T, no.” Scott leans forward, elbows on the table “You’re—brilliant, you know that?” 

She looks up to find his gaze intensely on hers and part of her wants to look away but she doesn’t. “I’m—I’m really not—”

“You are,” he smiles, “and I was very scared that I might end up letting you down.”

“Never, no. You couldn’t,” she says almost immediately. It’s a strange thing to say with certainty considering where their relationship was even a few weeks ago but the moment she says it, she believes it with her whole heart. The sky is blue, her eyes are green, Scott Moir will not let her down.

“You really think so?” He sounds like he’s just been given the best birthday and Christmas presents all at once.

“I do.” She can only hold his gaze for a moment before it feels like too much, like something she doesn’t deserve because she spent all of last semester thinking he was all full of himself and bit of a jerk and—he’s not. He’s really not. She busies herself with taking out her notebooks and fill-in-the-blank anatomy diagrams she’s made to help with studying, with Scott mirroring her, putting away his metabolism notes and taking out his anatomy ones, along with one of the sets of flashcards she’s made him. She can see from where corners have creased and where stray pen marks have made their mark that he must have put them to good use.

She bites her bottom lip to hide her grin. The exam-style questions he’s insisted on making for the two of them in return have been an actual godsend.

“Hey, Tess,” he taps her foot with his under the table, giving her a teasing smirk, “I bet I can name more muscle origin and insertion points correctly than you.”

“Oh, it’s _on_.”

–

They’re walking along one of the pathways, the branches of the trees overhead forming a canopy and casting shadows that look like lovers’ handholds. They’re well into a debate about whether pasta or bread is the better carb when they run into Scott’s best friend.

“This is Chiddy,” Scott introduces.

“And you must be Tessa!” Chiddy brightly proclaims. “I’ve heard _so_ much about you.” The other boy elbows Scott and Scott responds by putting him in a headlock. The easy affection between the two of them makes her smile.

Although she can only begin to imagine all the (justifiably) unflattering things Scott must have said about her. “Oh? They’re probably not good things,” she concedes with a wince.

“All good things, Tessa,” Chiddy disagrees. “Definitely all good things.” He looks down at his watch. “Sorry I have to run to my seminar, but it was nice meeting you! Hopefully we’ll run into each other again soon. I have so many embarrassing stories about this one,” he says, pointing to Scott.

She giggles as Scott shouts, “Hey!”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she tells Chiddy. 

Chiddy jogs away, but not before giving Scott a knowing smile. Scott’s eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

“Why did Chiddy give you that look?” she asks once their paces have matched up again.

“What look?” His voice shoots high in pitch, avoiding her eyes. It makes her completely 100% certain he knows exactly what that look is for.

“That look,” she throws her hands out in the direction Chiddy had gone. “With like, that weird smile and eyebrow thing.”

Scott keeps on walking and she strides faster to keep apace with him.

“It’s—” he starts. And stops. “Tess, you’re going to go back to hating me again.” He says it lightheartedly but she catches an underlying layer that a small part of him genuinely believes it.

“I never _hated_ you. Frustrated by you, maybe. Annoyed at you, often.” He groans. “But I always respected you. I know how hard you work.”

“That just means you can start hating me now.” He supplies without missing a beat. She laughs as she shakes her head.

“I don’t think I will,” she says firmly.

“Okay, the truth is I, uh, have—had, _had_ , a, um...crushonyou?”

She nearly trips and barely stops herself from face-planting. Scott catches her waist like the walking rom-com that he is, breaking her fall. She feels like someone’s just taken her world and proceeded to shake it like a snowglobe, all the pieces rearranging and suddenly nothing makes sense anymore.

“Wha—what do you mean?” She blinks and shakes her head.

“A crush, Tess? You know, feelings, infatuation, limerence…” She’s not sure whether the redness of his face is from being in the sun too long or from blushing.

“You had one...on me?” She points to herself, probably stupidly, but she’s still dumbfounded. Bamboozled. Dazed. Perplexed. 

“Yes? Remember how we were partners during one of our labs last sem?”

Oh, yeah. She remembers. By that point, their rivalry was established, racing to answer the prof’s questions in lectures the way Tanith had teased her about, the person managing to answer victoriously switching at the speed of the ball at an Olympic table tennis match.

“And then I asked you out after?”

Wait—what? “You did _not_ ask me out.”

“I did,” he’s laughing at her indignant expression, she’s sure. “Remember I asked if you wanted to grab coffee?”

Oh, she does remember that. She was so sure it was only so he could get in her head, know what she knows, and then use it to psych her out. Why did she always want to believe the worst of him?

“I’m so sorry,” she says, unable to find anything else to say, but Scott shakes his head.

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You said no, and I promise I respect that. I don’t—I’m not one of those guys who won’t take no for an answer. I solemnly swear that I will never ask you out again,” he’s got a fist clasped over his heart and she thinks his exaggerated solemnity is meant to make her laugh. She smiles a little, but internally, her head’s kind of a mess.

She can’t help but think of a world where she said yes, where she’d gotten to know him over sunlight-kissed café tables the way she’s gotten to know him over sun-touched library desks. A world where she’d also learn how good and kind and funny he actually is, but one where the smiles he gives her are allowed to make her heart flutter, and she’s able to hope that the smiles she gives him makes him feel that way in return.

Because dammit, of course this is the way it was always going to pan out, wasn’t it?

Of course, she realises she’s fallen for him long after he’d stopped.

She feels hot and cold all over, something aching bubbling up her throat but she swallows it down. Scott’s friendship is not some sort of consolation prize—it’s more than what she deserves, to be perfectly honest. Just because she’s realised that she’s now got to deal with some pesky feelings doesn’t change the fact that she never wants to go back to the same animosity they had between them before. It doesn’t change the fact that she treasures what they share between them now.

Sure, they’re competitors at heart, but now, she never wants to give up their shared library desk. The one she used to of as hers; now she thinks of as theirs. She’s tried studying there just on her own, and the seat across from hers just feels empty.

“No, Scott. I _am_ sorry,” she says to him, “You’re right. It’s shitty for a guy to not take no for an answer but I know you’re not that guy. But I am sorry that I misjudged you so quickly last sem. I think I just felt really threatened by you? Which is more of a reflection of me and my own issues and not an excuse for thinking the worst of you,” she winces. “I am really sorry.” She hugs her arms around herself, feeling small and vulnerable.

“Oh, T,” he holds his arms out in an invitation and she steps into them, wanting to sigh at how warm and good he feels. This, _this_ is more than enough, surely? “I didn’t make it the easiest thing for you to be nice to me. I did like riling you up—if only so you’d talk to me. The more I realised you talked—well, argued back,” they both laugh, “whenever I challenged you, it’s like positive reinforcement.”

Why does he have to casually drop psych terms in conversation like she needs another reason to be attracted to him?

“Just because we’re friends now doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop arguing with you,” she counters, although it’s said into his shoulder.

“We’re friends?” He’s got so much joy and disbelief in those two words that she pulls back a little to look at him.

“Yes, Scott,” she rolls her eyes, smiling. This is more than enough.

Friendship is a gold-medal kind of prize when it comes to him.

–

She’s so fucking stressed for finals.

She and Scott have holed up in his room, where he’s got anatomy diagrams stuck neatly all over the walls on his side of the room.

“Okay,” she takes a sip from her ice-water, needing something to keep her alert without overloading herself on caffeine. She’ll probably end up giving in to the temptation eventually but for now, she’s winning. “We should probably take a break. My brain feels like it’s gonna turn to mush soon.” She rubs her temples, leaning against the side of his bed as he flops down on his floor.

“Good call, I agree. Who invented the concept of exams anyway?”

“Someone who needed to assess students’ understanding of necessary concepts in order to give them degrees,” she says dryly. “Not that it’s totally devolved into a ‘who can regurgitate the most info in the span of two and a half hours’ thing.” It’s the furthest thing from funny but he snorts.

Quietness settles between them, the kind that doesn’t need to be broken. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to match his, the rise and fall of their breaths a perfect echo. 

“I think I’m ready,” she sits up straighter after a while, cricking her neck while Scott winces at the sound. Honestly, you’d think he’d be more used to the eccentricities of the human body with him wanting to be a doctor and all.

“What’s next?”

“I just want to go over some of the muscles we covered in class, if that’s okay.” She searches through the sheafs of notes strewn around them for the blank diagram she’s thinking of. “If only we can sneak into a lab with the 3D models…” she muses wistfully, “it’d be so much more useful.” She sighs, resigning herself to scribbling down the names on paper.

Scott sits up abruptly. “Wait, I’ve just had an idea.”

She looks at him skeptically. “Should I trust your ideas, Moir?”

“Uh, yes?” he scoffs. He sticks his arm out. “Just do me.”

She chokes on her next sip of water. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Just use my body, T. You know you want to,” he jokes and she lets out a high-pitched laugh because little does he know just how often she thinks about his body.

(And it’s not even the stereotypical stuff that her mind often wanders to. As much as she appreciates his arms, plus that one time she got a glimpse of his abs and his very defined _v_ as his shirt rode up, she’ll more likely catch herself thinking about his stupid smile, the way his hair fluffs and curls on his forehead just so, and the steady beat of his heart when he’s wrapped her up in his arms.

She is handling this feelings thing very well, as you can see.)

It’s both the best and worst idea he’s ever had. But she’ll do anything for that top mark, including him—in the sense that he meant! Definitely not anything else. Nope, no, Virtue—you’re not going there. 

She shifts closer until she’s across from him, her palm resting at his wrist. For a moment she wonders if his pulse quickened but she thinks it’s a trick of her nerves. This is just studying. 

“Pronator teres. Pronator quadrates.” She skims her index finger along each muscle as she says it. She turns his forearm over, a gentle twist that he easily follows. “Extensor digitorum,” she whispers her fingertips along, working her way up to his elbow. "Brachialis. Deep to biceps brachii. Triceps brachii," she adds as she skims her palm along the back of his arm. 

She looks up and all of a sudden he's so close. Have his eyes always been that tug of war between green and gold?

He takes her hesitation as a problem with her, uh, studying (sure, Tess, _studying_ ), and frowns thoughtfully at her. That familiar frown that tells her he's searching for the right answer and would usually give her a feeling of worry in her chest that he's about to beat her.

Well, it used to. Now, she's used to seeing that frown across her as he's working on something they're studying together. All it does now is make her smile. 

Until he rips his shirt off his torso. 

"What are you doing?" she squeaks. She shouldn't be staring. 

(But God, she is.)

"Helping you." He's giving her a smile that's closer to a smirk, but instead of infuriating her like it used to, now it's just…fucking attractive. 

(Oh, she is screwed.)

"Helping me?"

"Yeah. Easier this way, right? C'mon, T." His hand's at her waist and she's practically in his lap and when did _that_ happen?

"Yeah, easier," she whispers. Or whimpers.

She swallows. "Deltoid. Latissimus dorsi." Her hand hovers over the corresponding muscles. "Am I—am I allowed to—" 

"You can put your hands on me, T." He blushes. For all his confidence earlier, he's gone all shy on her now. He peeks up at her, that stupid curl falling across his forehead.

"Okay. Just tell me if you're uncomfortable?" She bites her bottom lip. 

"I promise. I trust you."

She nods, determined. She can focus. Just pretend he's one of the 3D models. Both her hands come toward the front. "Pectoralis major."

Her palms travel downwards, still inches away from his skin. "External abdominal obliques. Internal abdominal obliques. Transversus abdominis." Her fingertips brush his skin accidentally, and his abdomen tenses in response. "Rectus abdominis." She's practically hoarse at this time. 

She flicks her gaze back at him. He's still impossibly close and impossibly handsome. Her eyes drop down to his lips. He's so close she could lean in and—

No. That's not what they are. And that's not who she is to him, not any more.

She scrambles away from him, breathing heavily, her back hitting his bed frame. She stares at the floor to avoid meeting his eyes.

“T? You okay?” He’s got the voice of someone talking to a spooked or wounded animal. 

He’s pulled his shirt back on by the time she looks up at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her. “Did _I_ make you uncomfortable?” His voice goes all soft and worried. “I’m so sorry.”

“No! No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “I think I’m good with the topic now,” she smiles weakly. “Can we move on?”

“Sure. Of course." He picks up a set of flashcards that she made him. Her heart both aches and flutters seeing something she's made in his hands. "Cranial nerves?" 

"Please."

He shuffles the cards into a different order, then takes the top one. "Trigeminal nerve."

She paints this moment onto her heart: his encouragement at her trying to get the right answer, his delighted whoop once she's gotten there, his proud smile at the end. 

Focusing on little details often makes her miss the big picture, but focusing on these instances with Scott just highlights the biggest thing. 

Most days, she still feels too young and too small to understand what it feels like to actually fall in love. 

But this—she thinks this is the closest she's ever felt. 

-

"You? Went to a hockey game? Willingly?" Tanith stares at her like she's a conundrum. 

"Yes? What's so weird about that? Scott invited me."

"You also wore his jersey?" She swears Tanith's eyes get wider with every word. 

"It's his spare one! And I was cold!"

"It had his name and number on it. Tess, that's what _girlfriends_ do."

"I guess I am? A girl friend. Just with a space in the middle," she laughs at her own weak joke. 

Tanith just gives her a look.

"I've got it bad, don't I?" she says, muffled into her hands. 

Tanith pats her on the head. "Yes you do, sweetie. Yes you do."

-

She all but collapses on his bed where they'd agreed to meet to study together after her dance practice. 

(It should probably worry her how quickly she's become comfortable in his space, especially his bed, but she's trying not to overthink things. This is definitely a just 'business partners' kind of thing. Yep. Nothing weird about this at all.)

"You okay?" The question's fond and even though she's lying face-down on his covers, she can easily picture the exact smile he's giving her. 

"No," she replies, although it's muffled into his sheets. "My feet are so sore."

He's laughing lightly, probably at how overdramatic she's being. She feels him stroke her hair softly and she almost purrs at the action. God, Tessa, get a grip. "Do you want a massage?" 

She jerks her head up to look at him. "Are you serious?" 

"Yeah," he says it like it's not a big deal. 

She almost moans at the thought. A massage sounds like a gift from heaven right now but—

"My feet are kind of—" she winces and wrinkles her nose, "—they're all calloused and scabbed from dance." She self-consciously sits up and tucks her feet underneath her. 

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head and chuckling softly. "Virtch, I'm sure your feet are as beautiful as the rest of you. Now c'mon, give them to me and let me show off my masseuse skills."

She's still stunned by the absent-minded compliment but she's got almost no time to process it because by the time Scott's firmly massaging the muscles of her feet she's turned into mindless mush. 

" _Ohhh_ ," she practically moans at the first moment his thumbs dig into her sore muscles. She blushes the moment she realises what sound she's made, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

"Aren't you glad the semester's nearly over?" he asks her after a few minutes of him working her with his amazing hands.

(It makes her wonder how else he’d be good at them but she throws on the brakes quickly on that particular train of thought. Nope, not going there.) 

"Yeah, I'm ready for this anatomy unit to be done."

"Me too. Professor Briggs is definitely an…interesting character."

"That's one way to put it," she snorts, "I swear I learned more from you than from him this semester."

He doesn't say anything for a while. "Hopefully we get good profs next year, eh?" 

“At least I’ll have you to pester if we get another one like him,” she says, closing her eyes as Scott hits a particularly sore spot in her arches. 

He snaps his head to look at her. "You want to keep on doing this next year?"

“Um...yes?” she shifts how she's lying so she can look at him. She probably should've thought it through before saying it and she blushes as she realises she's all but demanded it of Scott. "Only if you want to, of course," she tacks on hurriedly. 

"Yes, of course. I want to." He's got his hands around her ankles, his thumbs brushing back and forth, almost in a caress that she secretly wants to call tender. 

"Okay," she nods, trying to hide how stupidly happy she is at the prospect but knowing she's probably failed. 

"Okay," he affirms, squeezing her legs and giving her a smile that's all sunlight. 

-

She feels like she's going to throw up. 

She's standing outside the venue for their anatomy exam and her mind keeps on very helpfully giving her scenarios in which at least one thing has gone wrong. She's triple checked everything she needs for the exam and her timetable to make sure she's got the correct time but it's done nothing to calm the nerves she feels. 

She tries repeating to herself that she's done her best and done all she can and that's all she can do but she keeps on thinking of all sorts of questions that she might not be able to answer should they pop up in the exam. 

She takes another deep breath to calm herself down, but it still comes out shaky. 

"T?" It's Scott. He places a hand at her lower back and that small touch grounds her. 

"Hey!" she greets him, overly bright, trying to keep the nervousness she's feeling hidden but the look he gives her tells her he sees right through it. 

"How are you feeling? Be honest," he moves his palm in small circles and she can’t help but lean into him.

“Not the best,” she confesses. “I’m nervous about the exam. I just keep on thinking of things that could go wrong. Stuff I could have missed. I know I’ve done my best but it just doesn’t _feel_ like it’s enough.”

“I get how you feel. But, T,” she looks up at him, “I know how hard you’ve worked and I know that no matter what questions Professor Briggs is going to throw at us, you’re going to be okay. No, you’re going to do amazing! It’s me you should be worried about if anything.”

She punches him weakly at his self-deprecating joke. “You’re going to do amazing too. You had me. And my flashcards,” she teases him with a tongue-touched smile.

“See? We’re both going to be just fine.” He wraps his arms around her in a tight hug that she can’t resist returning. 

It’s as she looks over his shoulder that she notices the other people in their cohort giving them confused looks. Which she understands considering how cutthroat her and Scott’s rivalry was for the first half of the year. 

She chooses to ignore it, closing her eyes instead and focusing on Scott’s slow and steady breathing, finding that hers easily matches with his. She thinks even their heartbeats sync up, but she’s not sure if that’s anatomically possible. It’s likely just wishful thinking.

By the time they need to go inside the exam hall, she’s feeling a lot calmer and sure of herself. She reaches for his hand one last time, only to find he’s already reaching out for hers. He squeezes her hand twice before letting go.

It’s okay. They’ll find each other again later.

For now, there’s an exam they’re going to ace.

(And they do.)

–

“You know, you could just _tell_ him,” Tanith says as they walk into the frozen yogurt place as a reward for doing their anatomy final.

“Tell who what?” Tessa replies, all faux-innocence, as they grab the paper cups and look at all the yogurt flavours. Tessa tends to go for any and all chocolate flavours whereas Tanith prefers something fruity. 

“You know who,” Tanith huffs, exasperated, as she pulls on the lever for the passionfruit. Except she pulls on it too hard and too much yogurt falls out. “Oh, fuck.”

Tessa bites back a laugh. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she says as she slowly pulls on the lever for the dark chocolate, before going to the strawberry one. She doesn’t think there’s a more heavenly combination.

Tanith levels her with a glare and she rolls her eyes and gives in. 

“What good is it going to do? Let’s make things awkward again? Let’s get my heart broken?” She spoons peach slices so that she feels a little healthier onto her yogurt with more force that what she needs, sighing heavily.

“Or,” Tanith interjects as she liberally sprinkles rice bubbles on hers, “he tells you he feels the same way.”

“He doesn’t,” Tessa says quickly, a phrase she’s repeated over and over to stop any flutterings of hope. He might’ve at one point, but it was all in the past now.

“But how do you know?”

“I—” She doesn’t, not really. She’s just far too terrified of the consequences if she does. Losing how comfortable and easy her friendship with Scott feels now is not a risk she wants to take. She doesn’t say anything as she spoons a good amount of white chocolate buttons into her cup.

“Tess,” Tanith’s voice is kinder, “I understand why you’re apprehensive but I swear I’m not saying this just because. And maybe I could be wrong and you’re entitled to be mad at me forever but I genuinely believe this. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Tess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at anyone else like that. Like you’re the only one he wants to see, the whole world be damned.”

She stares down at her cup of frozen yogurt, looking at where it’s already starting to melt around the edges.

“I’m just terrified,” she admits, fingers gripping the cup tighter, “of everything that could go wrong.”

Tanith throws an arm around her shoulders and squeezes. “Maybe,” she gives Tessa a knowing look, “it’s time you start thinking of everything that could go right.”

“I’m scared I’ll lose him.”

“I think the only time you’ll lose him is if you tell him to go away. Which I don’t see happening anytime soon,” Tanith teases and squeezes her shoulders again, “I’m sorry I’m being annoying and pestering you but I just don’t want you to lose out on something just because you’re scared. You took a risk on asking him to be your study buddy and it paid off. You can take another risk on him, for the both of you.”

She takes a deep breath, thinks about everything she feels for him. Maybe, maybe she can. “I’ll—I’ll think about it,” she concedes, although the simple possibility just starts up another set of nervous butterflies in her stomach.

“That’s all I ask.”

“And you really need to stop saying ‘study buddy’ like that.”

Tanith snorts. “Nope. never.”

–

She thinks about it. 

She thinks about it when they fall into the same hug just before their other exam. She thinks about it when he sends her ‘good luck’ text messages before her exams that she has but he doesn’t. She thinks about it as she’s compiling all her anatomy notes and all the practice questions he’s made for her. She thinks about it as she comes across a bunch of blank flashcards, reminding her of every set she’s made for him.

She thinks about it whenever she sees sunlight falling across any surface, thinks about the warmth of his arms and the brightness of his grins and the way his eyes glimmer gold when the sun hits it just right.

She thinks about it, and makes a decision of what to do.

–

 **Tessa:** _can you meet me at our usual study spot?_

_there’s something I need to give you_

She’d sent the text early in the morning, his reply a quick, unassuming ‘sure T :)’. His insistent use of using emoticons even when emojis are readily available on his phone makes her smile and shake her head at the same time. 

It also makes her realise how utterly gone she is for him.

She waits at their sun-dappled table, drumming her fingertips on the wooden surface to give herself an outlet for her nervousness.

“Hey T,” he greets her, dropping into the seat across from her, leaning across on his forearms. “Got your text. What did you need to give me?”

She digs it out from her bag, handing it to him.

It’s a set of flashcards wrapped in a rubber band, the same thing she’s given him week after week after week this past semester.

“Flashcards?” he asks bemusedly, “We’ve just finished the semester, T. Are we getting a head start for next year?”

“Not exactly,” she bites her lip. Her heart pounds in her chest as he removes the rubber band, reading the top card. 

“‘Verb. To perform an action.’” He looks at her confused but with an adorable smile. “Is this a game? For road trips?”

She just smiles as serenely as she can although internally she’s a fucking mess.

He flips the card over revealing the word ‘Do’. 

He takes reads the next card. “Pronoun. Used to refer to the person the speaker is addressing,” then flipping it over to reveal ‘you’.

“Verb. To have a desire to do; to wish for.”

“Preposition. Expressing purpose or intention.”

“Verb. To obtain or get something.”

“Determiner. Used when referring to someone or something for the first time in a text or conversation.”

“Noun. A hot drink made from the roasted and ground seeds of a tropical shrub.”

“Preposition. Accompanied by another person or thing.”

“Pronoun. Used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself as the object of a verb or preposition.”

He’d stacked the cards in front of him as he was going through them, all the words face-up. He looks up at her, what she’s telling him dawning on his face like the sunrise cresting over the horizon. “Tess, are you—is this—” He opens and closes his mouth like he can’t find the right words to say.

So she calls on the ones she’s already written, spreading out the flashcards in a messy line in front of him so that he can read it clearly, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

_Do you want to grab a coffee with me?_

“Um…” she takes another deep breath, meeting his eyes, “I—like you. A lot. More than I would have ever seen coming.” She looks down at her fingers clasped together before glancing back up at him again. “You—mean so much to me. Now. I’m still so sorry I let myself misjudge so quickly at the start of sem but I’m just lucky I know you now. So this is me, asking you out.” 

She falters, her fears rising to the surface and pouring out of her in haphazard sentences. “I know you said you once had, um, feelings for me. And I know that’s in the past now.” He looks like he’s going to say something but she pushes through, needing to get everything on her chest out in the open before he breaks her heart.

(It’s okay, she thinks with a half-laugh. He had mentioned possibly pursuing cardiothoracic surgery one day, so give it the ten-plus years needed to qualify and then he can probably fix it. She has to laugh at her own stupid joke because otherwise she might cry.)

“But I guess, all I’m asking for is a chance. To be with you. And,” she hurries to add, “you don’t have to say yes. Your friendship means everything to me and it’s fine if you’d rather forget this all happened—” She swallows as she reaches for the cards at each end, intending to sweep them together and bolt except Scott’s gentle hands touch both of hers.

She can’t look at him because she’s so utterly terrified of what she’ll find.

“Tess,” he says, soft as summer rain. She looks up at him. “Yes. I’m saying ‘yes’.”

It’s the answer she wants and she should be jumping for joy but of course her mind has to supply her with the worst-case scenario. “You don’t have to. Not if it’s just out of pity,” her voice catches in her throat and why did she come up with this idea in the first place?

“Tess,” he says again, a little brokenly, thumbs sweeping back and forth. “It’s not—I could never say yes out of pity. Not to anyone, and especially not to you. There’s something I need to admit.” He takes a deep breath. “I let you think that what I felt for you was all in the past. Because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or to make it weird between us.” He ducks his head down, his hair falling in a way that makes her fingers itch to run through them, then back up at her. “But that’s not the truth. I—never stopped, T. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. How could I? You’re...you.”

“I’m...me?”

“Yeah. Driven.” He brings her hand to his lips to kiss each knuckle. “Smart. Brilliant. So beautiful, inside and out, that it hurts mere mortals like me.”

All these words like confessions she wants to bask in forever but all she can say is, “Oh.”

He grins at her, obviously happy that he’s left her dumbfounded and unable to form words. “I mean it, T. Yes. I’d love to grab a coffee with you.” His eyes crinkle at the sides and she can’t help but mirror his expression with her own blushing grin.

“This is happening.” She murmurs, dazed and blinking and shaking her head.

He lets go of her hands, leaving her bereft for a moment, but then he’s standing up and coming over to her side of the table and before she knows it, she’s swept up in his arms and off her feet, and a bursting laugh escapes her before she muffles it into his neck because they’re in a library.

“I still can’t believe you said yes,” she says. Her hands have drifted to his chest, where his own hands rest over hers.

“I still can’t believe you feel the same way,” he says with the same awed disbelief. He sweeps hair from the side of her face in a tender gesture.

“But I did.” He presses his forehead against hers.

“And I do.”

There’s a moment where his eyes drop her mouth and her gaze falls onto his lips, and it’s oh-so-very-tempting to lean in, but she knows they’ve both still got a long way to go in uni and she’d much rather not be kicked out of the library and lose this study spot that’s now his as much as hers.

(She leans in anyway, his surprise and delight the sweetest treat on her lips. His kisses are as soft and warm and good as the sunlight that falls around them, and she’s made up her mind that he’s the best thing she’ll ever want to study.)

–

They go on coffee dates and movie dates and dinner dates and she loves it despite it all being cliché. He takes her out to go skating, and that’s probably her favourite one. He lets her drag him to bookshops (where he always finds some way to sneakily pay for what she wants, which frustrates and endears him to her in equal measure) and she lets him choose what music to play in her car.

He tends to fill his playlist with the sappiest of country songs and she blushes as he’s singing along, because he’s looking at her with something precious in his eyes that she feels ready to name.

There are evenings they spend together, Netflix on in the background (they steadily make their way through all the _Jeopardy!_ Episodes because they’re competitive by nature) and Scott’s cooking spread out in front of them.

There are kisses that they share in between conversations, because there’s so much about him that she still wants to discover, so much about him that she wants to learn, where she lets her hands wander through every plane of his body that she can reach, a stark contrast to how he always has a hand steady at her waist and the other cupping her cheek and threaded through her hair.

And if one night she kisses him in a way that tells him exactly what she wants, and he raggedly asks her in a whisper if she’s sure, and she says, “Yes,” as sure as can be, and he looks at her in awe and she finally, finally understands what it must be like to be—

(—loved.)

...then that’s something that’s just theirs and theirs alone. She learns that he looks as gorgeous in the silver moonlight as golden sunlight, and that he’ll always, always take care of her, and all she wants is to make him feel as adored as she does.

She lays on his chest after, her cheek against his skin, one of his hands moving in a soothing caress on her back. She’s whispering her fingertips in an improvised dance all over him, and for a moment she’s thrown back to the time she’d decided to study anatomy using his body, and she smiles into his skin.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just,” she giggles, “I was thinking of when we were studying in your room. And you let me use your body.” She narrows her eyes. “You knew exactly what you were doing, weren’t you?”

He laughs, hugging her closer to him, “I think it was more like I was hopelessly gone for a girl who I just wanted to notice me.”

“Well, I did.”

“See, the plan worked.”

She shakes her head. “I noticed you before that. I’ve always noticed you.”

He’s looking at her so softly that she can’t help but reach up to kiss him.

She places her hand over where she knows it’s beating, fingertips against his skin. “Your heart,” she smiles as she peeks up at him. 

He shakes his head, his hand coming to rest over hers. 

“No.” He runs his fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek, smiling at her in the most vulnerable way. “It’s yours.”


End file.
